The moon hung high in the sky, casting its silvery glow across Mt. Yougou. The once-treacherous paths leading up the mountain now gleamed faintly under its light, their rough edges smoothed and steps restored. Momon had ensured that the journey would be easier for the next pilgrims, using his magic to repair the broken roads and missing stairs. It was a small gesture, but one that carried weight.

The samurai bandits he had slain earlier were no longer a concern. Through the power of his spell, their lifeless bodies were transformed into high-level undead servants, bound to his will. With a wave of his hand and the utterance of [Gate, he dispatched them to Dragonspine, where the cold would be their new domain.

Descending the mountain, Momon made his way back to the Kamisato Estate. The night was quiet, the air cool and still. As he approached the mansion's outer gate, he paused. His sharp eyes caught sight of Aether and Ayaka in the courtyard, standing close to one another beneath the pale moonlight. Ayaka's delicate smile and Aether's relaxed demeanor spoke volumes. Together, they looked like a pair out of a romantic painting—graceful, serene, and undeniably compatible.

Momon stood in silence, his shadow blending into the darkness as he chose not to interrupt their moment. Paimon, often the chatterbox of their group, was notably absent, leaving the two to bask in the stillness of the night.

Just as Momon turned to leave quietly, a soft voice broke the silence to his right. "Oh my, your companion seems to be having a rather wonderful time."

Momon's eyes narrowed beneath his mask as he turned toward the speaker. There, leaning casually against a tree with her arms crossed, was Yae Miko. Her pink hair shimmered faintly under the moonlight, her fox ears twitching ever so slightly as a sly smile spread across her lips.

"Didn't we just part ways a few hours ago?" Momon asked, his tone flat but laced with curiosity.

"Fufu~, did I not tell you?" Miko replied, her voice smooth and teasing. "A fox never lets her prey wander too far. Consider this… keeping an eye on you."

Momon sighed, crossing his arms beneath his cloak. "That's… That's a strange thing to say,"

"Oh, don't get the wrong idea about me," Miko said with a light laugh, pushing off the tree and walking closer to him. Her steps were deliberate, graceful. "Back at the shrine, we were surrounded by the other maidens. Hardly the place for a candid conversation."

"And this is?" Momon gestured vaguely to the quiet yard, his tone skeptical.

Miko tilted her head, her violet eyes gleaming with mischief. "Why not? The night is peaceful, the moonlight is enchanting, and you seem to be quite the intriguing subject to observe." She glanced toward Aether and Ayaka, her smile turning wry. "Besides, it seems your young friend has his hands full. I wouldn't want to intrude on their moment, would you?"

Momon followed her gaze briefly before looking back at Miko. "No," he admitted. "I wouldn't."

"See?" Miko said, her smile widening as she stepped closer, her presence as commanding as ever. "Now, tell me, Momon… what truly brings an adventurer like you to Inazuma? Surely it's not just for sightseeing or purifying sacred trees."

Momon regarded Yae Miko with an impassive gaze, his tone neutral yet faintly edged with curiosity. "You seem to enjoy meddling in other people's affairs."

Miko's lips curved into a playful smile, her fox-like charm as disarming as ever. "Fufufu~ Meddling? Oh, you wound me, dear adventurer. I'm merely indulging in a bit of harmless conversation. Let's not call it meddling." She turned slightly, her violet eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "Why don't we take a walk to Chinju Forest? The night is still young, and it's the perfect setting for a little chat."

Momon hesitated for a brief moment. He had no pressing matters to attend to for the time being, and despite her enigmatic demeanor, Miko didn't seem hostile. With a slight nod, he agreed, following as she led the way.

The path to Chinju Forest was bathed in the soft glow of fireflies, the occasional rustling of leaves and chirping of crickets adding to the tranquil atmosphere. Miko walked with an effortless elegance, her long pink hair swaying gently with each step. Momon followed silently, his dark figure a stark contrast to her graceful silhouette.

As they moved deeper into the forest, Miko broke the silence, her voice carrying a blend of curiosity and admiration. "The divine magic you used on the Sacred Sakura… it was truly a sight to behold. Divine magic, you say? One doesn't hear of such things every day."

Momon's reply was calm, his tone steady. "Back in the days when battles were a constant reality, I had to master many types of magic to keep my companions alive. Divine magic was one of them."

Miko glanced at him, her fox ears twitching slightly as she considered his words. "Hmm… a warrior and a healer. Quite the combination. And yet, you don't seem like someone who easily fits into any mold. I must admit, it's rare to meet someone with your… unique aura."

Momon's voice was calm, yet there was a weight to his words. "Just so you know, I was never a warrior. I'm actually a magic caster. The warrior thing… I'm still getting the hang of it. But this approach—it's better. It keeps my true appearance hidden."

Yae Miko raised a delicate eyebrow, her violet eyes glinting with intrigue. "Appearance?"

Momon hesitated briefly before answering. "I'm not human."

That revelation made Miko's smile falter for just a moment, her keen mind racing with possibilities. "...Interesting," she finally said, her tone carefully measured. "So that's why you can wield divine magic."

"No, no," Momon corrected, his voice carrying a tinge of exasperation. "I'm not some holy being, far from it. It's actually frustrating that I can't use the full potential of certain divine spells, especially the healing ones."

"Why is that?" Miko pressed, tilting her head slightly as her fox ears twitched in curiosity.

"It's because of Karma—the sense of justice or alignment," Momon explained, his crimson eye sockets glowing faintly under his hood. "I am not human. I lack… feelings. Empathy, compassion—these things are beyond me."

Miko furrowed her brows. "You'll need to elaborate on that. It sounds… complicated."

Momon sighed softly. "Let me put it this way. Take angels, for example. They're holy beings, pure embodiments of good, and they can channel divine and celestial magic at their peak potential. But what happens if an angel tries to cast a demonic spell?"

"They wouldn't be able to use its full power because they're not demons?" Miko ventured, her tone more confident than questioning.

"Exactly," Momon confirmed. "Their Karma—their sense of justice—is too high. Angels are inherently good, so using cruel or malevolent spells wouldn't align with their nature. Demons, on the other hand, have the opposite issue. Their Karma is at the lowest possible point."

Miko's lips curled into a sly smile. "I like how you explain it as though it's all part of some ranking table. What about humans?"

"Humans?" Momon mused, his tone more neutral. "They're mostly in the middle, the neutral zone. Some lean toward the good side, while others lean toward the bad. It ranges from 0 to 200 for good humans, or down to -200 for bad ones."

Miko's laughter was soft and musical. "Oh, so you assign them numbers too? How high do angels go? And demons?"

"500 for angels. -500 for demons," Momon said matter-of-factly. "That's how the Karma system works."

"I see… But earlier, you said you can't use divine spells at their full potential. Does that mean…" Her voice trailed off, her curiosity becoming almost palpable.

Momon paused, then sighed as though resigning himself to her relentless curiosity. "Since you're so persistent…" Slowly, he raised his hands and removed his mask, revealing the stark truth beneath.

The moonlight bathed his skeletal visage in an ethereal glow. A stark white skull, flawless in its form, reflected the pale light. Twin crimson orbs glowed softly in the depths of his eye sockets, their intensity both terrifying and mesmerizing. The aura around him seemed to shift, no longer just mysterious but now undeniably otherworldly.

Miko's eyes widened, and for a rare moment, she seemed at a loss for words. She stared, her breath caught in her throat, before finally whispering, "Momon… you… What exactly are you?"

"I am an undead Overlord," Momon said with a calm that contrasted sharply with his ominous appearance. "The undead are ranked alongside demons. Their Karma is at -500. Most of the undead are mindless monsters consumed by hatred for the living. But a few, like myself, can evolve, becoming intelligent beings."

Miko swallowed, regaining her composure quickly. "So… you're one of those rare few?"

"Yes," Momon replied, his voice steady. "But that doesn't change the fact that my racial instincts still harbor extreme hatred for the living. I could watch countless people perish in an instant and feel nothing. No sorrow, no regret. I lack empathy."

Miko's initial shock gave way to fascination. "That's… impressive."

Momon tilted his skull slightly, as though he were raising an eyebrow. "You think that's impressive?"

Miko stepped closer, her gaze unwavering despite the chill emanating from his presence. "Because I've never seen anyone like you before. While it's true that I felt a little… unnerved by your true self, it doesn't change the fact that you've chosen to use your power for good. You're a hero—a protector of nations."

She lifted a delicate hand and touched the side of his skeletal face, her fingers grazing the cool, smooth bone. Her voice softened. "That makes you far more extraordinary than any ordinary being, don't you think?"

For a moment, silence hung between them, the forest around them alive with the whisper of wind and the soft hum of life. Momon's glowing eyes regarded her, unreadable but unwavering.

"Perhaps," he finally said, his voice as calm and enigmatic as ever. "But what I am and what I do will never truly align. I simply do what needs to be done.

Miko smiled, her hand lingering for a moment before she stepped back. "Fufufu~ That's a noble answer, Momon. You may lack feelings, but you certainly know how to leave an impression."

Momon carefully placed his mask back over his skeletal face, the crimson glow of his eye sockets disappearing behind the dark, imposing visage. His tone was calm but carried a sense of finality. "I trust that you will keep what you've seen tonight a secret."

Miko tilted her head slightly, her usual playful demeanor softening. "Not a word, that's a promise," she said. But then she hesitated, an uncharacteristic seriousness flickering across her features. After a brief pause, she continued, her voice lower. "However… there's something you should know."

Momon regarded her silently, waiting for her to continue.

Miko took a small step closer, her fox-like ears twitching slightly as though attuned to the gravity of the moment. "You've revealed much tonight, and while I am bound by my word, others may not be so understanding. When Raiden Shogun learns about you—and make no mistake, she will—she won't take kindly to your presence."

Momon didn't react immediately, his towering frame remaining still. Finally, he asked, "And why would she see me as a threat?"

Miko sighed softly, her gaze drifting momentarily to the moonlit forest around them. "The Shogun is devoted to her ideal of eternity. Anything or anyone that could disrupt her vision of unchanging order… well, let's just say she has a way of dealing with such threats." She looked back at him, her eyes searching for a reaction. "And you, Momon, are something she would never allow to exist within her domain."

A silence fell between them, broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves in the night breeze. Then, Momon's deep voice cut through the stillness. "Is that right?" He shifted slightly, his crimson gaze now fixed on her. Though hidden behind his mask, Miko could feel the intensity of his words. "Then I will show her that every form of eternity has an end."

Miko's breath hitched for a fraction of a second, though she quickly masked it with a sly smile. "Fufufu~ You certainly know how to make bold statements, don't you?" she said, her tone teasing but edged with genuine concern. "But do you truly believe you can stand against the Raiden Shogun? She's not just a warrior; she is a god. Her resolve is absolute."

Momon's voice didn't waver. "A god is still bound by the same laws of existence as any other being. Her power may be vast, but eternity is an illusion. Nothing lasts forever—not even her."

Miko stared at him, her smile fading slightly as she absorbed his words. There was no arrogance in his tone, no boastfulness. It was simply a statement of fact, delivered with the confidence of someone who had seen the rise and fall of countless beings.

Miko chuckled softly, though there was a hint of melancholy in her tone. "You're a strange one, indeed. But I suppose I can't argue with that logic." She turned, her violet hair catching the moonlight as she took a few steps away. "Still, I hope it doesn't come to that. Clashing with the Raiden Shogun… it would leave Inazuma in ruins."

Miko's gaze lingered on Momon, her expression unreadable but filled with curiosity and a touch of mischief. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts, until she stepped forward, her movements fluid and deliberate.

Before Momon could react, she reached up and removed his mask herself, the cool night air brushing against the exposed bone of his skeletal face.

"What do you think you are doing?" Momon asked, his deep voice tinged with confusion.

Miko's violet eyes locked onto his crimson orbs, her expression soft yet intensely focused. With surprising gentleness, she extended a hand and rested her fingers lightly against the surface of his skull, tracing its contours as if it were the most fragile artifact. "I'm just… fascinated," she murmured. "That you are real."

Momon's crimson eye sockets flickered faintly as he tilted his head. "Huh? So you didn't believe me earlier when I removed my mask?"

Miko chuckled softly, her melodic laughter carrying a playful edge. "Oh, I believed you. But seeing something and truly feeling its presence are two different things. It's like… discovering a rare treasure hidden in plain sight."

Her fingers moved with delicate precision, her touch almost reverent as she examined him up close.

Momon let out a low sigh, a sound that seemed almost like a dry rattle. "You're an odd one, Miko. Few would dare to do what you're doing right now."

"Fufu~ Perhaps that's because most people lack a sense of adventure," Miko replied, her gaze shimmering with amusement. "Or maybe they're too afraid of what they don't understand. But I've always found the unknown to be… exhilarating."

Momon regarded her for a moment, then raised his own hand, his bony fingers moving with calculated precision toward her head. "Are these real, then?" he asked as his fingertips brushed against her fox ears.

Miko's ears twitched slightly at his touch, and her lips curled into a teasing smile. "Fufufu~ Of course they are," she said, her tone dripping with playful confidence.

Momon's skeletal fingers traced the soft fur of her ears, his movements careful as if he were examining an unfamiliar artifact. "Hmph. They seem real enough," he said after a pause.

Miko leaned into his touch slightly, her expression one of amusement. "What's the matter, Momon? Never encountered a kitsune before?"

"I've encountered plenty of strange things in my time," Momon replied evenly, withdrawing his hand. "But you might take the prize for being the most perplexing."

"Perplexing?" Miko repeated with a laugh. "Coming from someone like you, I'll take that as the highest compliment."

As Momon stood in the moonlit clearing with Yae Miko, a sudden jolt of awareness coursed through him. His connection with Ivana, his newly turned vampire servant, had flared to life. The link was chaotic and fractured, filled with echoes of rage and bloodlust. [Blood Frenzy]. She was losing control.

Momon's skeletal hand twitched slightly as he placed a hand on his mask. His crimson orbs dimmed momentarily, as though weighed down by the disturbance. He secured the mask over his face and took a deliberate step back from Miko.

"Apologies, Miko. It seems our little chat must come to an end," he said, his voice steady but tinged with urgency.

Miko tilted her head, her fox ears twitching slightly. Her violet eyes sparkled with curiosity as she stepped closer. "Oh, leaving already? And here I thought I was finally getting to know you better. You've been such an intriguing conversational partner, after all."

Momon's gaze, though hidden behind his mask, was fixed on her. "I've enjoyed our exchange as well," he admitted, his tone softening for a brief moment. "But there's… something I need to handle immediately."

"Something?" Miko repeated, her tone teasing but her expression thoughtful. "Oh my, you do have a habit of keeping secrets, don't you? You're not running away from me, are you?"

Momon shook his head slightly, his crimson gaze flashing faintly behind the mask. "No, this isn't about you. It's something else—a matter that requires my immediate attention."

Miko stepped closer still, her presence almost tangible in the way her aura seemed to envelop him. "Fufufu~ You're a man of many mysteries, Momon. But very well, I won't press you… for now." Her lips curved into a sly smile, though there was a glimmer of genuine curiosity in her gaze.

Momon raised a hand, his skeletal fingers tracing a circle in the air. A dark rift began to open, shimmering faintly with arcane power. The air around them grew colder, the faint hum of magic resonating in the stillness of the forest.

"I'll take my leave now," Momon said firmly. "Goodbye, Miko."

Before she could reply, he vanished into the void, his form dissolving into a swirl of shadow and light.

Miko stood there in the clearing, staring at the spot where he had disappeared. For a brief moment, her expression was one of confusion, her fox ears twitching slightly as if trying to process what had just happened.

Then, she smiled—a slow, deliberate curve of her lips that was equal parts amusement and resolve. Her hand rose to her mouth as she bit her lower lip lightly, her violet eyes narrowing with playful determination.

"Fufufu~ So, you think you can escape me, Momon?" she murmured to herself, her voice a sultry whisper. "You won't slip away so easily next time… I'll make sure of that."

With a faint shimmer of light, her form flickered, dissolving into the shadowy silhouette of a fox. The shape darted gracefully into the forest, vanishing as though she were part of the night itself. The clearing fell silent once more, save for the faint rustle of leaves and the distant call of a nightbird.

The Byakko Plains were cloaked in darkness, the faint glow of the crescent moon casting long shadows over the rolling grasslands. Three figures moved swiftly and silently, their forms barely distinguishable against the night. They were ninjas from the Shuumatsuban, a secretive organization operating under the Yashiro Commission, tasked with gathering intelligence and handling covert operations.

Their mission tonight was a critical one. Recent intelligence had revealed troubling news: Fatui troops had landed on Narukami Island. Though the Tenryou Commission had been anticipating a diplomatic visit from Snezhnaya—led by one of the enigmatic Harbingers—it was clear the Fatui had a much darker agenda. Camps had sprung up across the island, their purpose shrouded in secrecy, and the Shuumatsuban had been dispatched to uncover their plans.

The leader of the group, Hisashi, a tall and composed man with a sharp gaze, gestured for the others to stay low as they approached the edge of a dense thicket. His short black hair and dark attire blended seamlessly with the shadows. Hisashi was a seasoned operative and known for his unyielding focus on the mission.

Behind him was Momoya, a wiry and agile young man with a faint smirk permanently etched on his face. His crimson scarf fluttered lightly as he ran, contrasting with the rest of his dark ensemble. Momoya was the team's strategist, often injecting humor into their otherwise tense missions.

The third was Sayu, a petite girl with a perpetually sleepy expression and a panda-eared hood that bobbed with her movements. Despite her small stature and apparent laziness, she was a capable ninja whose skills rivaled even the most diligent members of the Shuumatsuban. She let out a long yawn as she struggled to keep up with the others.

"We're close," Hisashi said in a hushed tone, his voice barely above a whisper. He crouched low, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of movement.

Sayu groaned, rubbing her eyes with a lazy motion. "Ugh, I was having such a good nap. Now I'm here, running in the dark. This isn't what I signed up for."

Momoya chuckled softly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, come on, Sayu. It's not like being a ninja means sneaking around or anything. Why don't you just carry a blanket next time and roll into the enemy camp?"

Sayu puffed her cheeks in mock annoyance. "Don't tempt me. I'd do it if it meant I could nap in peace."

Hisashi turned and gave them both a sharp look. "Focus, both of you. We're here to gather intel, not debate Sayu's sleeping habits."

Sayu let out a resigned sigh, trudging forward with less enthusiasm. "Fine, fine. But if this mission takes too long, I'm napping on the spot, Fatui or not."

Momoya smirked and leaned in slightly. "You know, if the Fatui catch you napping, they might just pack you up and take you to Snezhnaya as a souvenir."

"Let them try," Sayu retorted with a lazy wave of her hand. "I'll just roll away faster than they can blink."

The group came to an abrupt halt as Momoya's sharp intake of breath caught the attention of his companions.

"Why did you stop?" Hisashi asked, his tone edged with urgency.

Momoya didn't immediately reply. Instead, he crouched low and pointed at something in the grass. "L-look at this…"

Hisashi and Sayu followed his gaze, and their eyes widened in unison. Lying in the grass was a bloodied arm, severed cleanly at the shoulder. The pale moonlight revealed the deep crimson of the blood soaking into the earth, the arm's fingers curled as if frozen in its last desperate grasp. The unmistakable armored gauntlet marked it as belonging to a Fatui Vanguard.

"What… what happened to him?" Momoya's voice trembled slightly, his usual composure shaken by the grisly sight.

"There's no body. Just the arm." Hisashi scanned the surroundings with narrowed eyes, his grip tightening on his blade. "Whatever did this, it wasn't human."

Sayu, her face pale, turned away and hugged herself. "This is… scary! I didn't sign up for a mission with this kind of nightmare." Her voice quivered, and her small form seemed even smaller as she tried to block out the gruesome image.

"Sayu, keep it together," Hisashi said firmly, though his eyes betrayed his unease. "We can't stop now. The mission comes first."

Momoya nodded hesitantly, tearing his gaze away from the severed arm. "Right. We have to figure out what's going on here… but this feels all kinds of wrong."

The three moved forward cautiously, each step more deliberate than the last. The eerie silence of the plains began to give way to a faint crackling noise, and the acrid scent of smoke drifted on the breeze.

When they reached the edge of the cliff overlooking the shore, the scene below sent a chill down their spines. The Fatui camp, once a carefully constructed operation, was in absolute chaos.

Flames consumed several tents, casting flickering orange and red hues across the camp. The scent of burning wood and flesh mingled with the metallic tang of blood. But it wasn't the fire alone that turned their stomachs—it was the carnage.

Bodies lay scattered across the ground, limbs twisted and torn in unnatural directions. Pools of blood shimmered in the firelight, and the air was filled with screams of pain and horror. The scene was one of absolute savagery.

Sayu dropped to her knees, clutching her head. "This… is this a nightmare? Please tell me this is a nightmare!"

"Get a hold of yourself, Sayu," Hisashi said, though even his voice had lost its edge of authority, replaced by a subtle tremor. "We have to observe. Figure out what's going on."

Momoya squinted through the smoke and fire, his breath catching as he spotted movement amidst the chaos. "What the… Look over there!"

The three ninjas focused their attention, and their horror deepened. Six figures moved with inhuman grace among the wreckage—Cicin Mages, their distinctive masks and flowing garments unmistakable even in the dim light. But these weren't the composed and calculating Mages the Shuumatsuban had heard of. These were predators.

The Mages descended upon the injured Fatui soldiers like wolves on wounded prey. Their slender, clawed hands gripped their victims with unnatural strength as they drained their blood with horrifying efficiency. The sound of desperate gasps and gurgles filled the air as the victims' bodies went limp, their lifeblood stolen.

"Th-they're draining their own troops…" Momoya stammered, his hand instinctively tightening around his kunai. "This is madness!"

Sayu's trembling hands clutched at her hood, pulling it tightly over her head as if it could shield her from the sight. "They're monsters. Actual monsters…"

The flickering firelight of the burning camp cast long shadows over the desolate landscape, painting a scene of utter despair and savagery. Amidst the chaos, another horrific tableau began to unfold as a figure emerged from the smoke and ash—a Cicin Mage dragging a struggling Mirror Maiden by her hair.

"No! Please, no! I'm sorry!" the Mirror Maiden screamed, her voice raw with desperation. Her once-pristine attire was tattered, and her mask had been ripped away, revealing a face contorted in terror.

The Cicin Mage holding her captive was not like the others. This one exuded an aura of raw power and malice that seemed to warp the very air around her. Her once-human features were now twisted into something otherworldly. Crimson eyes burned like molten rubies, and her lips and chin were smeared with the blood of her victims.

This was Ivana. No longer an ordinary Cicin Mage, she had ascended—or perhaps descended—into something far more dangerous: a Blood Empress. Transformed by the dark will of her master, she had been unleashed upon the Fatui with a singular purpose: destruction.

The Mirror Maiden clawed at Ivana's grip, her nails scraping helplessly against the iron-like strength of her captor's hand. "Please, I beg you! I was scared! I didn't mean to betray anyone! I… I didn't know what else to do!"

Ivana's voice was a low, guttural growl, laced with venom. "You thought you could escape, didn't you?" She lifted the Mirror Maiden effortlessly by her hair, her sharp nails glinting like daggers. "You thought you could abandon us and walk away unscathed?"

"I was scared! I didn't know what else to do!" the Mirror Maiden sobbed, tears streaming down her face. Her legs dangled uselessly, kicking in a futile attempt to free herself.

Ivana's lips curled into a feral snarl, revealing elongated fangs. "Scared? We were all scared! But you… you didn't just run. You left me to die. You left all of us to die!"

The Mirror Maiden's pleas grew more frantic, her voice cracking under the weight of her terror. "Please, forgive me! I'll do anything! Just don't kill me!"

"Forgiveness?" Ivana's laugh was cold and hollow, a sound devoid of humanity. "Forgiveness is a luxury I no longer afford." Her grip tightened, eliciting a cry of pain from the Mirror Maiden. "You don't deserve mercy. You deserve to suffer."

Ivana's crimson eyes seemed to glow brighter as she leaned in close, her voice a sinister whisper. "And suffer you shall."

The Mirror Maiden screamed as Ivana's clawed hand slashed across her neck, silencing her pleas. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc, and Ivana wasted no time. She sank her fangs into the wound, drinking deeply.

The Maiden's struggles grew weaker with each passing second, her hands flailing before falling limp at her sides. Her wide, tear-filled eyes stared blankly at the night sky, the life fading from them as Ivana drained her completely.

The scene was horrifying—a grotesque display of power and vengeance. Ivana's blood-soaked visage was framed by the chaos of the burning camp, her transformation into a monster fully realized.

She let the lifeless body of the Mirror Maiden drop to the ground like a discarded rag doll, her chest rising and falling heavily as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Ivana looked around at the carnage she and her new servants had wrought. The fires raged, the screams of the dying faded into the night, and the camp lay in ruins. Her crimson eyes narrowed as a twisted smile spread across her face.

The three ninjas crouched low in the bushes, their breaths shallow and their bodies trembling as they watched the unspeakable horror unfold before them. The monstrous creatures fed with savage glee, tearing through their victims like wolves among sheep. Momoya, Hisashi, and Sayu could hardly believe their eyes.

Momoya's voice quivered as he whispered, "We... We must leave… right now. There's nothing we can do here."

But before they could act, the air around them grew heavier, colder. A shadow loomed over them.

Emerging from the darkness was Ivana, her bloodstained smile curling wickedly as her crimson eyes bore into their very souls. Her presence was suffocating, her aura radiating a chilling power.

"Well, what do we have here?" Ivana cooed, her voice dripping with malice. "Fresh blood bags, delivered right to me. How thoughtful."

Momoya's instincts kicked in as fear seized his heart. "RUN! RUUU—"

His words were cut short, replaced by a sickening, wet crunch. Ivana's clawed hand shot forward, piercing the back of Momoya's skull. Her hand emerged grotesquely from his mouth, slick with blood. His lifeless body slumped to the ground, leaving Hisashi and Sayu frozen in abject horror.

"RUN!" Hisashi roared, snapping Sayu out of her trance.

The two ninjas bolted, their training as swift-footed Shuumatsuban agents taking over. The terror fueled their movements, pushing them to run faster than they had ever run in their lives.

But the plains offered little sanctuary.

Hisashi's luck ran out as two vampire Cicin Mages materialized in front of him with inhuman speed. Their hands shot out like vipers, grabbing him before he could react.

"GO, SAYU! RUN! ESCAPE!" Hisashi's voice was a desperate plea as the vampires descended upon him, their fangs sinking into his neck.

Sayu skidded to a halt, her mind warring between the urge to flee and the guilt of leaving her comrade behind.

"This can't be real!" she whispered, her voice trembling. "This can't be real!"

Her eyes widened as she saw the life drain from Hisashi's body, his screams fading into the night. Overcome with terror, Sayu turned and bolted, tears streaming down her face. She used her Fuufuu Windwheel technique, rolling across the plains like a blur.

But no matter how fast she moved, the nightmare wasn't over.

She collided into something—or someone—with the force of hitting solid rock. Sayu tumbled to the ground, her vision spinning. She clutched her head, trying to recover, but the icy grip of fear froze her once more as she looked up.

It was Ivana.

The vampire towered over her, her crimson eyes glowing like two malevolent suns. Her fanged grin widened as she crouched down, leaning closer to Sayu's face.

"You're quite fast for such a little thing," Ivana purred. "But not fast enough. Now, look at me, child."

Sayu felt herself drawn to those hypnotic eyes, unable to tear her gaze away. Her mind grew foggy, her limbs heavy. Before she could process what was happening, her consciousness slipped away like a faint whisper in the wind.

Ivana let out a low, sinister chuckle. "Hehehe. Since you're just a child, I'll make this quick. No pain, no fear. Sweet dreams, little one. Can't have you running off to tell tales of my master's work."

She reached down, gripping Sayu's limp form. Her fangs glistened as she prepared to bite.

But before she could sink them into the girl's neck, a voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

"The hell are you doing?"

The voice cut through the night like a blade, sharp and commanding.

Ivana froze, her predatory instincts overridden by the familiar, chilling tone. She lifted her head, her crimson eyes meeting the imposing figure of her master.

Momon stood before her, his dark robe billowing slightly in the wind. His mask concealed his skeletal face, but his aura was unmistakable—an oppressive force that made even Ivana, a Blood Empress, feel like a mere insect.

"Master…" Ivana began, but her words were silenced by the sound of a sharp crack.

Momon's hand moved with blinding speed, delivering a brutal slap across Ivana's face. The force sent her sprawling, blood trickling from the corner of her lips.

"You dare disobey me?" Momon's voice was low and cold, each word carrying the weight of his fury. "You are to follow my orders, not act on your own impulses like a mindless beast."

Ivana scrambled to her knees, bowing her head low. "Master, I—I didn't mean to—"

"Silence." Momon's tone brooked no argument. He turned his gaze to Sayu's unconscious form, his eyes narrowing. "You were about to kill a child. A wasteful, reckless act."

The six vampiric Cicin Mages knelt behind Momon, their once-eerie arrogance now replaced with palpable fear. Their crimson eyes flicked nervously between each other, unsure of what their master's wrath might entail. The air around them was thick with tension, and the flames of the ruined camp flickered ominously, casting grotesque shadows across the ground.

Momon's gaze was a tempest of fury beneath his dark mask. He turned his attention to Ivana, who remained bowed before him, her hands trembling slightly as they rested on the blood-soaked grass.

His voice was calm, but the undertone was colder than the grave. "Who… gave you permission to create more vampires?"

Ivana's head shot up, her crimson eyes wide with panic. "M-my lord, I—"

"Answer me." Momon's words cut through her stammering like a blade.

Ivana swallowed hard, her throat dry despite the blood she had consumed. "I… I only wanted to complete the mission as quickly as possible, my lord! I swear on my unlife, it was done with the best of intentions!"

Momon's silent, measured steps toward her were louder than any shouted reprimand. Each footfall crushed the brittle grass beneath him, and the oppressive aura he exuded made Ivana's vampiric servants bow their heads even lower.

When he reached her, his hand shot out like lightning, grabbing Ivana's face. His iron grip held her firm as he yanked her upright, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"You dare to defy me?" Momon growled, his deep voice reverberating through the night.

With his free hand, he slowly removed his mask. The moment his skeletal visage was revealed, the six Cicin Mages flinched, their bodies trembling under the weight of his presence. His hollow eye sockets burned with an ethereal, menacing glow, and the bare bones of his skull reflected the fiery carnage around them.

Ivana, her crimson eyes locked onto his skeletal face, whimpered involuntarily. The sheer malevolence emanating from her master's exposed form crushed her pride and courage in an instant.

"You think my gift—my power—is something to squander on your petty whims?" Momon hissed, his voice like the grinding of ancient tombstones. His grip on her face tightened, the claws of his gauntlet biting into her flesh.

Ivana tried to shake her head, but his hold made it impossible. "No, my lord! I didn't mean—"

"You wanted the others to do the job for you," Momon interrupted, his voice dripping with disdain. "Not to complete the mission. Not to serve my will. But because you wanted to flex your newfound power. To bask in your delusions of grandeur."

"I—" Ivana stammered, her voice faltering as her mind scrambled for an explanation.

Momon leaned in closer, the flickering firelight reflecting in the hollows of his eyes. "Do not dare take my gift for granted, you imbecile," he snarled, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of authority. "Do you understand what you've done?"

Ivana's lips trembled as tears of blood welled in her crimson eyes. "I was only trying to—"

Momon's grip shifted slightly, cutting off her words. "Silence. You have turned these pitiful creatures into vampires, creatures bound to my dominion, without my consent. Their very existence is a stain on my name, and that is a debt you will pay."

He released her abruptly, letting her fall to her knees like a broken doll. She clutched her face, gasping for breath she no longer truly needed, her body trembling in fear.

Momon turned his hollow gaze to the six vampire Cicin Mages, who dared not even lift their eyes from the ground. "As for the rest of you," he said, his voice a low growl, "you exist only because I permit it. Remember that. Fail me, and your pitiful existence will be snuffed out without hesitation."

The six Cicin Mages murmured their obedience, their voices barely audible.

Momon turned back to Ivana, towering over her crumpled form. His tone softened, but the threat in his words remained unmistakable. "You are fortunate that I value efficiency, Ivana. But if you ever act without my permission again, I will strip you of the very power you so arrogantly flaunt. And this time, there will be no mercy."

Ivana bowed her head so low it nearly touched the ground. "Thank you, my lord. I swear, I will not disappoint you again."

Momon replaced his mask, his form once again cloaked in shadow. "If you ever forget your place again, it will be your last."

Momon stood over the small, unconscious figure of Sayu, her small body curled up on the blood-stained grass. Despite her being a ninja, trained to endure the harshness of the world, she was still just a child—terrified beyond comprehension by the horrors she had witnessed tonight.

His skeletal form exuded an air of contemplation as he reached down, removing his gauntlet with deliberate care. The metal of the gauntlet gleamed faintly in the flickering flames of the ruined camp before he set it aside. His bare, bony hand emanated a faint ethereal glow as he prepared to cast the spell.

"[Control Amnesia," he muttered, his voice low and measured.

This was the first time Momon had cast such a delicate spell, one that required absolute precision. His mastery over magic was unparalleled, but even he knew that tampering with memories was a treacherous endeavor. The mind was a fragile labyrinth, and a single misstep could shatter it beyond repair.

He knelt beside Sayu, his glowing hand hovering just above her forehead. A faint, shimmering aura enveloped her head as the spell took hold. Her breathing slowed, her body relaxing further as Momon delved into her memories.

Images and sensations began to surface—fragments of the night's events. Through her memories, Momon saw flashes of the bloodied arm in the grass, the burning Fatui camp, the horrifying scenes of carnage, and Ivana's terrifying presence. Her two comrades, Momoya and Hisashi, were also there—each memory drenched in fear and despair.

Momon's voice softened, almost as though he were speaking to the memories themselves. "Such chaos… such fear. You are far too young to carry this burden."

With great care, he began isolating the memories tied to the vampires—the blood-soaked frenzy, Ivana's crimson eyes, and the screams of the Fatui soldiers as they were drained of life. He left only vague impressions: the fear of a dangerous night, the sound of distant screams, and the flames that consumed the camp.

As the spell worked, Momon's magical energy pulsed gently, flowing into Sayu's mind like a calming tide. He ensured the memories of her comrades' demise were softened—turned into unclear moments of loss rather than vivid nightmares. The details of Ivana's terror, her vampiric transformation, and the horrifying assault were carefully wiped away.

The process was slow and meticulous. Momon's skeletal hand trembled slightly, not from fatigue but from the weight of responsibility. "You will remember enough to learn caution, but not enough to cripple you," he murmured, his hollow voice echoing faintly.

When he was satisfied, he lifted his hand, and the shimmering aura around Sayu's head faded. He studied her for a moment, ensuring no damage had been done. Her breathing remained steady, and her face, though pale, had lost some of its earlier tension.

Momon slipped his gauntlet back on, rising to his full height. "You will wake, child, but this nightmare will not haunt you as it once would have."

He turned to the six Cicin Mages who remained kneeling behind him. "Clean this place thoroughly. Leave no evidence of our presence here."

"Yes, my lord," they replied in unison, their voices trembling with both fear and reverence.